


Roommates Wanted (Attachments Less So)

by Anonymous



Category: Moonwalk - WAYV (Music Video), WayV RPF
Genre: Dubious Ethics, M/M, Moonwalk AU, Multi, Polyamory, Roommates, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:49:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Unable to break through in the music industry and short of work, Kun decides to sublet space in his apartment to make up some of the cost. Unfortunately you never know what you get when you rent to strangers, or what to do when the world's ending.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Qian Kun/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun/Liu Yang Yang
Kudos: 13
Collections: Anonymous





	1. The Idea is Planted

If this place closes, I have nothing.

The thought rattled through Kun’s stunned brain as the owner of the piano bar, where Kun had had a steady gig playing post-galactic ambient jazz fusion going on for over a year now, finished breaking the news. Kun stared into empty space as the aging owner-bartender looked at him with sympathy.

“You’ve seen how our business has been these past months. With the hikes in operation costs, the new permits they’re requiring, insurance—there’s no way I can keep the place afloat.”

“So suddenly though?” Kun asked, his voice coming out higher than it usually did. When the owner had called earlier and asked if he’d come in this afternoon, well before opening, on his day off to boot, Kun hadn’t known what to expect—hadn’t overthought it precisely because he couldn’t have expected the reason to be so drastic. Yet here they were.

“Well, I’ve been talking it over with family and friends for awhile, but the lease on this place is almost up and the rent increase alone won’t be sustainable in the long run, so it makes sense to end it here. Sorry to have to break it to you like this. You’ve been the most reliable talent we’ve had.”

Because I’m resigned to shitty pay and long hours? Kun thought, a bit hostilely, his brain staggering from shock on to resentment. Outwardly he tried to smile, to maintain a professional demeanour even though the job was ending unceremoniously, just like that, completely leaving him in the lurch.

There was more to be said but, honestly speaking, the initial daze persisted all the way through his final interactions with his now former employer, and followed him out onto the streets as he made his way home, last bit of cash in pocket with no guarantee of what his future fortunes would depend on. He neglected to take his usual shuttle home in order to walk off the feeling of shock. He was about half-way to his apartment before he finally paused at the edge of a concrete park and decided he needed to stop for a moment, sitting down on a cube-shaped cement bench that offered little in the way of comfort but was at least some place to collect his thoughts.

He looked down at his still functioning but antiquated timepiece that had been passed down from his grandfather. It was nearing 16:00 now. He hadn’t even been awake all that long. Shifting his focus from the hour to the timepiece itself, he was momentarily possessed with nostalgia and perhaps a little homesickness, for he was a long way from home these days, and his grandfather had passed away when he was still in school. 

Momentary was key, however, for the reminder of the past seldom failed to help him strengthen his resolve for what he was doing now. He had moved out to this planet because it had one of the most famous musical academies in this sector of the galaxy. It cost him everything he had to get here and attend, and in the end, the overwhelmingly bitter lesson upon graduation was you didn’t get anywhere without connections, which led him to this point. But this city was home now too, in a way, the underground music scene was thriving, and Kun was determined he could stick it out, and wait to get his break. He had to believe it’d pay off one day.

Looking at the soulless grey scenery around him, admittedly not the best the city had to offer, the cynical part of Kun did have to wonder if he hadn’t brainwashed himself into thinking like this. With a sigh mostly directed at himself, he activated the comm device on his right wrist and saw he’d gotten a message and a few pictures from somewhere far more elegant and glittering than this city would ever be.

He called Chenle. Back at the conservatory, he’d served as an RA in his final year at a campus-adjacent dormitory mostly populated with foreign students and young prodigies (ie. unaccompanied minors) who might otherwise lack familiarity with the planet and local support (or more plainly in the latter case, supervision). For Kun, it was a good way to avoid paying rent for a year while taking on a few responsibilities he honestly didn’t mind that much. The young, fresh-to-the-conservatory students could be a handful sometimes, but he’d grown fond of many of them in his year as RA and still kept in contact with a few of them even now. Chenle fell under both categories of student, a talented young vocalist who hailed from the same home planet as Kun, although their circumstances were, to put it mildly, different. Case in point: his family’s vacation home on the other side of the planet, where he used to spend weekends away and out of Kun’s hair, sometimes dragging others of his cohort with him and leaving Kun to have to carefully omit a few things when their families checked in. 

That was all a different time though, Kun thought, his lips twisted into a wry smile as he waited for Chenle to pick up. As far as he knew Chenle was off-planet for the summer, participating in an intensive opera performance and education workshop that Kun could only dream of, and evidently enjoying snapping a few photos to share now and then.

“Kun- _ge_!” Chenle’s face flicked into life, a tiny, wonky holograph projected from Kun’s worn comm device.

“Hey,” Kun replied, much less cheerfully, although a smile did cross his face seeing the other’s enthusiasm.

“What’s got you in a bad mood?” Chenle asked abruptly, picking up on Kun’s expression.

“Nothing, nothing, just felt like calling.”

“Just tell me. You know you’re going to tell me anyway. I don’t see the point in pretending for a few minutes as a prelude when you can just say it now.”

“Who taught you to talk like that?” Kun sighed, amused despite himself. He didn’t bother to keep the front up however. As Chenle said, it was pointless. “The piano bar is closing.”

“The one you always perform at?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Is it bad?”

“A little, yeah?”

“How bad?”

“Unless I magically get a call tomorrow saying it’s my big break, pretty bad.” Kun sighed and leaned his head back, looking at the sky for a moment before snapping his attention back to the holo. “The piano bar was shit, but it was steady. I doubt I can make rent without it if I can’t replace it right away. And you know how that is.”

“Yeah, you’ve said. So are you calling ‘cause you need a place to stay?”

“You know I’m not. I got your message, that’s all.”

“My family would let you, even if I’m not there. They wouldn’t even notice probably.”

“I appreciate the offer but you know that’s not what I want.”

“Yeah, whatever, keep your pride.” Kun rolled his eyes at Chenle’s words, although it was not without fondness. Chenle cocked his head as he said, “Hey, why not reverse card it?”

“What does that mean?”

“You become the landlord instead, until you replace the piano bar with something better. You’ve got some weird nooks,” Chenle said. “Maybe you could turn them into rooms, sublet your space for spare cash. Clear out your loft or whatever.”

“How many people do you want to cram into my apartment exactly?” Kun snorted at the audacious suggestion.

“I’m not saying I’d go for it, but I stayed in those crappy dorms back in first year, and some of the guys from back then are still rooming like that to split costs. I’m just saying, you could fit one or two more guys in there. There’s gotta be people desperate enough to share just to cut costs. Then you boot them out when you get something steady again or whatever.”

Kun, despite himself, started mentally entertaining all that that would involve, rearranging his apartment, having to share resources after having been so fortunate to have his own place these past years. He shook his head. “Even if I had the space cleared out, I don’t have any mattresses, any furniture...”

“I can get my family to send a few old futons or something over.”

“Chenle.”

“I’m investing in your first business venture, that’s all.”

“Chenle.”

“And you should film it ‘cause I’m sure it’s gonna be hilarious watching you get along with randos from the street taking over your kitchen.”

“You little brat.” 

“You say that but—oh, wait I got a call coming in from my masterclass teacher tomorrow. Sorry, gotta take it. Someone’ll drop the stuff off later this week. Good luck, Kun- _ge_!”

Chenle’s holo disappeared before Kun could even get his good-bye in, a whirlwind come and gone. Kun stared at nothing as he slowly dropped his arm, contemplating the craziness of Chenle’s suggestion. It wasn’t like it would be impossible. Kun had dealt with roommates before, although he considered himself well-shod of them at this point of his life. The last person he’d lived with, well, that relationship going sour had ultimately led him to the space he had now, a one-bedroom in a rundown part of town, where he’d been relatively content if a little lonely, done with romance for the meanwhile, but also missing all the friends he’d made through the conservatory who’d gone off planet or stayed but moved on to bigger things. He hadn’t had much of a social life outside of work in ages, if you didn’t count meeting up with the kids he used to supervise for the occasional meal out (which they usually conned him into paying for). Maybe it was time to get used to dealing with people in his space again, even if just to make ends meet.

Hm.


	2. Roommate No. 1

Kun hadn’t given too much more thought to renting out space, his first mission to call in as many favours as he could for extra work beyond what he’d already booked around his piano bar hours that week, and then he ended staying up later than usual to work on an idea for a song that had completely taken over his brain while making dinner. Therefore, when the loud buzzer the next morning (or afternoon, to be very precise) startled him awake, it wasn’t until he heard the voice come through the speaker, announcing a delivery, that he remembered yesterday’s conversation. He quickly threw on a hoodie and some sweatpants, covering up his hair and looking the bare minimum of presentable before going downstairs to pick up the delivery. By the time he’d got the large, heavy box back into his apartment, he was pretty certain what it contained. Opening it up, he found a letter from Chenle’s family’s butler disclosing the contents, and politely suggesting how to store and care for the futons and linens inside.

Kun sighed, hauling the box up onto the old metal trunk that served as a coffee table, then started eying up his apartment. He may have let the idea sit for a day, but he wasn’t one to drag his heels unnecessarily. Chenle had a point about the loft. It was storing stuff right now, but some of that could be moved into his bedroom without much fuss even if it would be crowded, and some of it was probably due for belated spring cleaning. He might also discover some old packed away items that his theoretical roommates could have use for. 

He turned next to what Chenle had dubbed a “weird nook,” a random hall that existed left of the entryway sharing a not-completely-full wall with the living area. It was narrow, had an electrical box on the far end, and did not have very evident purpose, but set into that interior wall it did have a large, built-in cubby that probably had been intended as a sleeping space back when those kind of pod rooms were in-vogue. The design plans of the apartment were beyond Kun’s fathoming and likely had a lot more to do with working around awkward building limitations than any coherent thought. But, though not really suited as a “room” per se, someone definitely could sleep there. If someone was sleeping in the loft...well, then neither would be very private, but if the person was down to share a room to begin with, Kun would certainly do better to rent multiple spaces than only one. Maybe if he moved the shoe rack...?

Without much more of a game plan than that, he began clearing things out into the living area, dumping the cleaning supplies and the winter stuff and the random junk he had in the nook around the coffee table. Next he fished down the loft ladder from its stowed location on the wall. He climbed up until his head was peeking above the loft floor, examining what was up there. Some of it was going to be a pain to get down, but he didn’t know who he could get to help him on short notice. He sighed and just went for it, carefully taking down box after box of old decorations, textbooks, extra cooking gear he didn’t need on a daily basis, only taking a break to dig around his fridge and actually eat something since breakfast was long gone, until the loft was clear and his living room was more junk-filled than ever.

“I almost may as well move, at this point,” Kun muttered to himself, looking at all his stuff spread out. It wasn’t a serious thought. For one, he might not get all of his deposit back if he suddenly moved, and even if he downsized, he probably couldn’t afford the deposit on a new place without it. He also, frankly, somewhat liked this shitty apartment and was really only trying to solve a temporary problem of means. He was determined this financial instability was not going to persist indefinitely. 

Leaving his stuff where it was, he rescued the cleaning supplies from the haphazard maze and did a quick wipe down of the loft and the wall cubby. He then took out the futons and “extra” bedding Chenle had sent over. They looked to fit the two spaces pretty perfectly, and were possibly more comfortable than Kun’s ancient mattress. “They’ll be sleeping better than me,” Kun mumbled to himself as he threw himself down on the futon he’d just placed in the loft. He looked over the edge, where a guard rail protected anyone from falling off. There was no hiding the rest of the living room or the weird nook from up here, but maybe he could set up a privacy curtain or something using some bargain shop wall hooks? It wasn’t a bad place to sleep, if you didn’t mind being unable to stand up in the space. There was even a switch and an electrical socket up there, which was a selling point. Maybe he could find a stand-up tray to serve as a bedside table?

He relaxed for another moment on the futon before sitting up, careful to avoid bumping his head on the ceiling, and crawled his way out and back down the ladder. He grabbed the other futon and situated it in the wall cubby. Honestly, it seemed like the better option to him but he couldn’t really justify charging any more for it than the other space given both prospective tenants would be living on top of each other, and with Kun to boot. It might be possible to squeeze some very small furniture in here to make it more appealing, a lamp, or a narrow set of drawers maybe. That was getting ahead of things though. It’s not like Kun could afford anything new.

He returned to the living room, looking despairingly at all the junk. He also opened up the closet door that was in between his room and the bathroom, set beneath the loft. Realistically, he’d have to empty that closet so that the others could use it for their stuff, which meant he had to figure how to arrange all his stuff so that it was in his room or taking up the least amount of space possible in the living room. He looked at the hour. He had plenty of time before his DJ-ing gig tonight, so he begrudgingly turned on some music and began the painful process of sorting and concealing all his stuff.

It was after 4:30 in the morning when the event he was DJ-ing wrapped up (on his part, at least). The venue, so to speak, was at a place in one of the city’s most upscale neighbourhoods, with actual houses and lawns and the like, so he had to walk a ways to get to the nearest convenience store where he’d wait until shuttles were running again. At this time of year the sun wasn’t yet up, but it was ever so slightly light out, so Kun tried to frame it as a brisk sunrise walk as he walked past gated houses. It must be trash day because he could see several places with their bins out. What caught his eye most, besides a beat-up looking mattress on the curb, was a folding privacy screen propped up next to it. It didn’t look beautiful, but it appeared to be functional, and not overly large to carry.

Kun slowed up as he passed, eyes darting around self-consciously before reaching out to touch it, checking if it was broken. It didn’t seem to be. He felt a little weird about taking something like that to the convenience store with him, but it would fit on the shuttle, which would be mostly empty at this time of the morning anyway, and it could easily screen off that weird nook, which would improve the privacy issue for that space. In the end, he didn’t want to look like a loiterer, so he picked it up decisively, balancing it against himself, and started walking again. He felt far more conspicuous now, but curbside trash was fair game, so he told himself not to mind any looks he got as he finally propped it against the pillar next to the convenience store and waited for his shuttle to come.

The next day, Kun posted his last advertisement for roommates on the next-door building’s bulletin board, exhaling audibly as he looked at it. He’d written it in two languages, hoping that might maximize the audience, but he had a feeling it could just drive locals away. It was too late to change now, though, as he’d already spent the money printing them at the convenience store. He’d posted the rest of the ads at a few places he’d done gigs at. He also posted one online in a local search hub. He wasn’t quite bold enough to post it on his own building’s bulletin board in case it got back to his landlord, but he figured people already in the area might want to stay in it, so he’d hit up a few places on this block. 

“It’s too cheap. I’m just going to get weirdos,” he murmured to himself in despair, looking at the fringed paper with his secondary contact address on it. He wasn’t about to give his real info out. Too much risk there.

He took out his timepiece. The hands were telling him it was time to get moving, as he was booked for a veterans’ fund-raising dinner, courtesy of an old conservatory acquaintance. The payment was more or less a free meal and the cost of the fare to get there and back, but Kun didn’t have the heart to say no when he first got in contact with them about a month ago and anyway, maybe the food would be alright. He wasn’t setting his hopes high.

It turned out he was right not to, but he did get a lot of grateful and encouraging compliments from both random attendants and the organizers, which was at least something. It made him feel a little better even if now weren’t the greatest of times for him. As he waited at the quiet open shelter for the public shuttle to come by, Kun felt his comm device go off. It was an unknown number, which meant he was either about to get the call of his dreams from one of the companies he’d submitted his tracks to, or someone had seen the online ad and was replying (...or had picked him up for spam). The local hub unfortunately required sharing a number to post, but it seemed a more reliable bet than the bulletin board ads which were more of a reflection of wishful thinking.

He accepted the call.

“Hi, you the guy looking to sublet?” 

“Hi,” Kun said much more slowly. The holograph tech on Kun’s comm device was shitty, so he didn’t rely on it too much for detail, but to Kun’s eye the guy calling him was definitely young, and had a rather carefree attitude in his words and expression.

“So, like, you posted the address as kinda in the north of town, yeah? What neighbourhood exactly?” The green miniature projection glitched a little as the young guy reached a hand up and started playing with his bangs while talking.

“South of Bade, east of the 26.”

“The Nangang district?”

“Yeah,” Kun sighed, “That one.”

“Cool, cool. Can I come check the place out?”

“Can I get your name first?”

“Heh, it’s Yangyang.”

“Right, well, I’m Kun for the record. I guess if you’re that interested we can set up a time whenever’s good.”

“Is, like, now good? I’m not too far from the area at the mo’.”

“I am, unfortunately. Just heading back from something. But if you can wait an hour or so.”

“Bleh, okay, I guess.” Yangyang made a face, apparently unbothered about hiding things like that. 

Kun half-wanted to teach him some basic manners, but brushed the thought off. The younger generation was like that these days—not that he was old, mind!

“Just give me a general location, then you can message me whenever you’re good,” Yangyang prattled on without missing a beat.

“The shuttle’s coming now,” Kun said, looking up the way as it thundered down the road. He raised his hand to flag it down. “So it shouldn’t be later than 22:00. We can meet at the convenience store on Renai and Mingcheng.” Kun nodded apologetically to the shuttle driver as he boarded, trying to wind up the call as he swiped his pass against the card reader. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Sure, whatever. Bye.”

Kun looked at his comm device a moment, shook his head, and moved on back to find a seat in the rear of the shuttle. He hadn’t known how fast interest was going to manifest, and he kinda hoped this guy wasn’t his only option, but at least it hadn’t been spam, he told himself, and the sooner he was taking in a bit of rent the better, right?

Various thoughts flitted through his head as he stared out the window at the deepening purple of the summer evening, until at last it was his stop, not close to his house but in the right area at least. He was fortunate not to have to transfer on that route. Kun stood on the sidewalk and looked at the time, debating whether he could hurry home and tidy up first, or whether to message Yangyang right away. The apartment wasn’t too messy, and he wouldn’t be showing off his own room which was where most of the undealt with junk was. He also didn’t know if he necessarily wanted this guy of all people to take the place, but on the other hand it did go against his basic instinct to not try to present the place as tidily as possible to a guest. 

Not a guest, he chided himself, someone who’s going to have to deal with the place as it is. In the end he switched on the comm device and rang up the last caller. “I’m in the neighbourhood, I can meet you in about ten minutes at the shop if you’re around,” he said without much formality. 

“Make it fifteen?” Yangyang said, his image breaking up a little through the faulty projector.

Kun tried to hide his annoyance as he agreed. He still ended up at the convenience store in ten minutes as projected and as a result ended up buying iced coffee and some snacks for later that he probably couldn’t afford to be wasting his budget on. He sat on one of the chairs outside the shop, sipping at the coffee sullenly while staring up the street waiting for Yangyang to appear.

It turned out he didn’t have to look for Yangyang because he made himself known before Kun even had the chance.

“Hey man, you’re Kun, right?” a voice came from behind him.

Kun switched over to a more personable mode immediately as he turned to face him. 

“I am,” Kun said, standing up. He stuck out his hand on instinct. “Nice to meet you.”

Yangyang eyed his hand incredulously, before going for something more like a low five than a handshake. 

Kun felt like an idiot. This kid clearly did not stand on formalities. Looking him over as their hands dropped, Kun thought he had more or less gotten the right of it even through the shitty holo-projection. Yangyang was young, skinny as a toothpick, with a sharp jawline and bright eyes that hinted at a mischievous character, but his smile was wide and disarmingly cheerful for all that. Cute, even.

“So like, this whole ‘semi-private’ thing. What the fuck does that mean exactly? Because I’m guessing from the price it’s a sardines-in-a-can sitch.”

Kun held his tongue a moment, collecting his temper, before indicating him to walk up the road. “It’s a tight fit, yes. I have my own room but I’m renting out space in the living area. One of the spaces is the loft, the other is a wall pod with a privacy screen to cordon that area off from the main room. I don’t have anyone in either at the moment, so if you moved in you’d have the space to yourself at night, until I find another tenant.”

“Would I get a say in who it is?”

Kun looked him over warily. “If you gave me a valid reason to object, I’d accept it.”

“What’s a valid reason?”

“Not just you not wanting to share,” Kun said bluntly. Kun felt he had maybe gone too far with that the moment he said it, but Yangyang laughed sharply and suddenly he felt a bit more at ease. 

Kun looked away and up the street. “That’s the building,” he said, pointing at the rundown five-story apartment. The city had lots of high-rises both in the downtown area and on the outskirts near the mountains, but in this area most of the buildings were older and not so tall. He took out his keys as they approached the entry hall, unlocking the front door and guiding Yangyang to the ancient elevator on the first floor. He pressed the button for the fourth floor and they rode in silence until it was time to get off. 

“So, is it always this quiet here?” Yangyang asked, following him down the hallway to his apartment door.

“Honestly?” Kun said. “Not always. Sound does travel a little between floors.” Kun realized he was making this sound really unappealing. He opened the door and let Yangyang step in first. “But it’s not bad. I’ve had way worse.”

“What if I’m, like, a late sleeper?” Yangyang looked around the small living area as he spoke, absently removing his shoes as he did so.

“I’ve had way worse,” Kun repeated, watching his evaluation carefully. Kun slipped on his favourite slippers and dropped his bag of snacks on the shoe cabinet. “C’mon.”

“The kitchen’s just there,” Kun pointed out as he led him in. “Don’t know if you cook?”

“That’s a no.” 

“Well, if you ever feel like it, I guess,” Kun said. He walked to the sofa which functionally blocked off the kitchen/living area. “This whole area is shared. There’s a TV obviously, although it doesn’t get many channels. You’re welcome to use this space however you want.”

“But like, where are the rooms?”

“Like I said, it’s that loft.” Kun pointed up to the space he’d cleared out earlier that week, which Yangyang eyed dubiously. “And then back in this area.” He led him to the awkward nook. “I’ve got a futon that fits this space so you don’t need your own mattress or anything. That folding screen over there can be pulled out to block off the entrance. You’ve got the closet under the loft for your clothes. It’ll be shared, eventually, but yeah. And you can set things up here however you like. We also could go searching sometime for cast-off furniture if you feel like you need something that’s missing.”

“Please tell me you didn’t get the futon from the curb.”

“I didn’t!” Kun said. “A friend had some stuff they didn’t need anymore. It’s pretty much like new though.” 

“Good because I don’t need bug infestations in my life.” Yangyang was wandering through the small space, looking things over carefully.

“Neither do I,” Kun muttered, as he left the awkward hallway area. “Bathroom’s just there, next to the closet.” Kun pointed back at the wall beneath the loft. “Shower but no bath. There’s a pretty cheap bathhouse around the block though if you want something more...” Kun waved his hand, but didn’t finish the sentence. “Laundry’s across the street. You can use change or buy a card if you like. That’s pretty much it, to be honest.”

“Hmm, yeah.” Yangyang went back to the living area, looking over the place observantly.

“So,” Kun said hesitantly, “what’s your feeling?”

“What time do you get up, dude?” 

“Late,” Kun said. “I mostly work in the evenings.”

“I kinda work whenever but I’m a late riser so I guess that’s good.”

“What is it you do, exactly?” Kun said, trying to remember if he’d told him. He was so young Kun might have thought he was a student actually, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Like, sales, I guess?” Yangyang played with his hair as he spoke.

Must be some kind of minimum-wage shop assistant gig, Kun figured. Not that it mattered, as long as he had the cash to pay rent.

“What is it you do, then?” Yangyang stopped fiddling and sized Kun up.

“I’m a musician.”

Yangyang didn’t so much whistle as make a random breathy sound that was an attempt at it. “That’s unexpectedly cool.”

“Hey!” Kun said, exasperated, although he quickly settled back down. “Well, it’s kind of irregular work, unfortunately, but yeah, it’s a lot of evening gigs, other than the producing I do on my own time, so, I’m at home a lot when I’m not working.”

“Fun,” Yangyang said, drawing it out. Kun didn’t know whether it was sarcastic or if this guy was just like that.

“So like, say I want to move in, when could I?”

Do I ask for references first? Do I ask for references? Kun thought rapidly as he found himself replying, “Honestly, from whenever you’re able to start paying rent is fine.”

“Tomorrow?” Yangyang raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tomorrow is fine,” Kun said, trying not to show any alarm. Fast, but fine. The cash on hand would make a big difference and although he wasn’t totally sure of Yangyang’s character yet, he seemed harmless for all the bluntness, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t evict him if it wasn’t working out. He wasn’t going for something formal here.

“You don’t need to like, get me to write my name in triplicate in blood or something?”

“I’d prefer to keep it an oral contract,” Kun said, assessing his reaction carefully. “Rent due monthly, from whenever you move in, plus equal share in utilities, whether that’s a half or a third. Give me a week’s notice if you choose to move and vice versa.”

“Works for me.” 

“But, uh...I would at least like to see your ID or something, just to check that you are who you say you are.”

Yangyang rolled his eyes and then dug his wallet out of his bag, presenting him with a residency certificate that did generally conform to Kun’s guesses about his age and foreign extraction.

“Can I take a picture of it?”

The look Yangyang gave him had Kun saying, “Never mind,” after a moment.

Kun didn’t know if it was relief or dread that was sinking into him as they wound up the tour of the place until he finally sent Yangyang off into the dimly lamplit city night. Change was happening, either way.

The next day, Yangyang showed up with an envelope of cash and two suitcases, one of which, when unpacked, consisted entirely of fancy shoes. Kun, who was helping shift stuff around so he could use the closet, eyed them in surprise. “The shoe rack isn’t big enough for all those, for the record,” he said, in lieu of commenting on how much they must have cost.

“You said we could go dumpster diving right? I’ll just throw them wherever for now.”

Kun didn’t like the sound of that, but began to move a few into order on the floor of the closet. Looking at the label of one of the pairs he was holding, he noticed the brand name wasn’t exactly right.

Yangyang grabbed them from him with a wide “I’m not saying anything” smile and took over shoving them into the closet randomly. Kun backed off and retreated to lean against the kitchen countertop. If they were all knockoffs, that at least explained why he could afford them.

“Do you want me to show you around the neighbourhood after this? I’ve got something tonight but I could spare a little time if you want.”

“Nah, some other time. I got stuff to do once I’m finished here.” 

“Sure,” Kun replied, shrugging. He fished one of his spare keys out of his pocket. “Here, you’ll need this. It’s programmed for the doors and the elevator.”

“Aces.”

“Well, if you don’t need anything...” Kun said after a moment’s pause.

“Nope.” 

“Right, well, I’m gonna work on some stuff. If you need me, knock.”

Yangyang waved him off and kept at arranging the rest of his stuff.

Kun’s gig tonight was at an artsy café bar in a nearby neighbourhood. Passing the bulletin board near the entrance, he spared one disappointed glance at the ad he had left there, which still had all of the tear-off tabs untorn. No takers yet. The café had an upright piano, going for a nostalgic, quaint feel, but it was kept well-tuned, and while facing the wall he felt less like he was performing for an audience and more like he was providing mindless background music, he still enjoyed playing around with improvisations over old standards and popular film music.

After finishing the first part of his informal set, so to speak, he took his break, heading to the bar for a drink. The bartender currently on duty was partners with the owner, and always a friendly face. When she finished up her current order, she came over to Kun with a wide smile. “Been hearing a lot of compliments for the music tonight. Iced oolong?”

Kun smiled at the praise. “If you don’t mind.”

“For you I’ll make an exception, it’s not like it’s my job or anything,” she joked as she poured ice into a tall glass. Though quite good with tricks, there wasn’t much flair to be had with a simple iced tea so in a flash she had it ready and sitting in front of him. 

“By the way, I mentioned you were looking for tenants to someone who came through the other day.” 

Kun looked at her attentively as she continued. “Came for the open mic—mentioned he needed to get out of where he was when I got talking to him. You might get a call.” 

“Really?” Kun said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Thanks, I appreciate that. Really.”

“We like to help, if we can,” she replied with a smile. A customer signalled for her attention down the bar. “That’s my cue,” she said with a wink, retreating to get their order. “Good luck!”

Kun nodded and sipped at his iced tea quietly, until someone came up to chat about what he’d been playing for the rest of his break.

When he got home that night he could hear music blasting through the walls. A sense of dread filled him as he unlocked the door and stepped in. It wasn’t quite as bad as he feared. Yangyang wasn’t throwing a rave in their apartment at the least. It was, in fact, just Yangyang in a hoodie free-styling in the narrow corridor between the couch and the kitchen, with the music blasting way too loud from his portable speakers. Loud enough he even hadn’t noticed Kun entering, or that he was standing there laughing at him until he turned around and saw him. Yangyang abruptly stopped dancing and stood stock still, which made it harder not to laugh, but now that he had his attention Kun schooled his expression as best he could to not make his new roommate feel any more embarrassed than he needed to. 

“Back already?” Yangyang practically shouted over the music, brushing a stray hair behind his ear.

“Turn it down?” Kun repeated at equal volume, pointing to the speaker.

Yangyang clicked his tongue before tapping his comm device and pausing the track.

“I didn’t say you had to turn it off,” Kun said, making a face in return as he came into the living room. He sat down on the metal trunk, facing Yangyang who was now leaning over the couch. “But if you play it that loud, the police are going to come knocking. I did tell you noise travels here.”

“But it’s not as fun if you can’t feel the bass going through you.”

“Then go out to the club if you like.”

“Nah, the club’s not ready for this.”

That made Kun laugh, which eased some awkwardness as he forced himself into lecture mode. “I don’t want to be fussy from day one, but we do have neighbours. You’re going to have to keep it down a little.” He emphasized the last words.

“Fine.”

“Did you eat already?” Kun said, trying not to set a sour tone on the first day of their having to live together.

“Mm, I had something. Could eat again honestly.”

“Me too. Do you wanna order in?”

“Like what?”

“Fried chicken?”

“Sounds good.” 

Normally Kun tried not to spend his money on take out when avoidable, but for the sake of bonding it’d pass for tonight. He called up his favourite chicken place, and ordered some half-and-half wings and soft drinks.

“I’m gonna change,” Kun said, heading to his room. “Keep doing your thing if you want.”

Yangyang still seemed awkward about getting caught earlier and instead threw himself on the couch. Kun went into his room, grabbing a few things before heading back through the living room to the shower. By the time he was drying his hair, the unit comm was buzzing and their order was waiting downstairs. 

After grabbing the bags from the deliveryman, Kun brought them upstairs and dumped them on the coffee table. Yangyang, who was still on the couch, immediately began digging through the packaging. Kun threw the extra soda cans in the fridge and joined him, grabbing one of the cans sitting on the trunk and cracking it open. He noticed that while he was out at work, Yangyang had hooked up an ancient gaming system to his TV. 

“Where did you get that?” Kun said, looking it over. “It’s way before your time.”

“But you recognize it, gramps?”

Kun glared at him, but Yangyang only inched away on the couch, giggling.

“Does it work?”

“Why would I have it if it didn’t?” Yangyang asked, stabbing a long toothpick into the spicy half of the carton of deep fried chicken. “You do have to blow on the cartridges sometimes, though.”

“Huh?”

“Do you game?”

“A little,” Kun answered as he likewise went for the spicy option first. He basically only did racing games and puzzle games, to be honest.

“I’ve got some two-player ones, if you wanna give it a go,” Yangyang said around a mouthful of chicken. 

Kun looked at the kitchen clock. He had wanted to work on something, but he also wanted to leave a good impression, at least for today. In the end, he agreed, and once they had finished eating Yangyang broke out an old fighter game and proceeded to completely thrash Kun at it, to his regret.

“Wow, you’re really bad at this!”

Dropping his controller into his lap, Kun grabbed the pillow from under his arm and pretended to throw it at him before putting it down again. “I told you I’ve never used this kind of system before.”

“Sure. Tell yourself that,” Yangyang said from the corner of the couch he’d retreated to in defense. Realizing he was safe from retaliation, he stood up and went to the fridge, grabbing another can of soda.

While he was up, Kun checked his comm device. He’d gotten a few messages, the first being a snapshot of some beautiful seaside scenery and a short message from Chenle.

“So have you killed each other yet, Kun- _ge_?” Yangyang suddenly read out from over his shoulder, soda in one hand.

“Hey! Don’t look at my stuff, thanks.”

“But now I need to know, like, are you a serial killer? Am I in danger here? I’m just a young boy, what should I do?”

“How are you so annoying?” Kun said before he could stop himself. He realized it a second later and apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He didn’t know what it was about Yangyang that made him act overly familiar, but he should be watching how he was interacting with someone he really didn’t know, especially as the lessor in this scenario. 

Yangyang for his part hardly seemed to care.

“Like what?”

“Like, seriously...” Kun shook his head, more to clear away his own thoughts than anything. “Anyway, my friend’s just joking around since I haven’t had a roommate in a long time. I promise not to kill you if you don’t kill me.”

“Deal.” Yangyang came back around the couch, but only sat on the arm of it this time.

“Right, well, I gotta get to some stuff.” Kun flicked through the other messages on his comm device quickly. “Also looks like I might be showing someone around tomorrow for the other space. Are you gonna be around?”

“Can’t really tell you that without a time.” Yangyang punctuated it with a loud sip of his soda.

“Well, I’ll get back to them and let you know,” Kun said, grabbing his drink and standing up, stretching his legs out as he did. “I’d prefer you meet in person but maybe I can also arrange a call between the three of us if it doesn’t work.”

“Whatev’.” Yangyang flopped back down on the couch, and with nothing more to say to that, Kun nodded and retreated to his room.


End file.
